player plot | when my time comes around, pt. 5
WHO: Everyone!
WHAT: Everything's fine and we're going to have feelings about it.
WHEN: August 15 9:49
WHERE: Primarily the Gallows! But potentially anywhere.
NOTES: We made it! You are all free of my tyrannical plot grasp! There is a final OOC post with some notes + space for plotting here.
WHAT: Everything's fine and we're going to have feelings about it.
WHEN: August 15 9:49
WHERE: Primarily the Gallows! But potentially anywhere.
NOTES: We made it! You are all free of my tyrannical plot grasp! There is a final OOC post with some notes + space for plotting here.
This is a timeline where, some mild chaos aside, things for the last month have carried on as normal. Riftwatch hasn't lost anyone at all. There were no funerals. The work continued. The late afternoon of August 15 may find people at their desks, in the midst of meetings or debriefs, in the library, in the sparring yard. Or maybe afield, seeing to errands or meetings or missions somewhere else in Thedas. Maybe, if they are particularly unlucky, they are deep in conversation with an ally or embroiled in combat with an enemy agent at the precise moment when the magical connection between two realities closes and the diverging timelines snap together into one existence.
At that moment, everyone forgets what it is they were just doing. Instead they remember what they might have been doing in the world where a third of Riftwatch's number was lost, despite their hands suddenly occupied with the normal business of handling pens or swords or books they don't recall picking up.
For the always-living, it may feel as though they have been magically transported somewhere new mid-thought. For the dead—the formerly dead, the might-have-been dead—it will feel as though they have just woken up. Perhaps they'll have a vague sense of a dream they now can't recall, in between their last conscious moment amid the blood and screams in Granitefell and awakening just now in a quieter world, or perhaps they'll have a sense of nothing at all.
For a few hours, the worse world will be the only one anyone can remember. Over time, memories of the other world—the only one that really exists now—will filter in, competitive with other memories in a way that might require everyone to double or triple check whether they wrote a letter or completed a mission in that timeline or this one. But the memories of death and dying will never fade into anything less real.
At that moment, everyone forgets what it is they were just doing. Instead they remember what they might have been doing in the world where a third of Riftwatch's number was lost, despite their hands suddenly occupied with the normal business of handling pens or swords or books they don't recall picking up.
For the always-living, it may feel as though they have been magically transported somewhere new mid-thought. For the dead—the formerly dead, the might-have-been dead—it will feel as though they have just woken up. Perhaps they'll have a vague sense of a dream they now can't recall, in between their last conscious moment amid the blood and screams in Granitefell and awakening just now in a quieter world, or perhaps they'll have a sense of nothing at all.
For a few hours, the worse world will be the only one anyone can remember. Over time, memories of the other world—the only one that really exists now—will filter in, competitive with other memories in a way that might require everyone to double or triple check whether they wrote a letter or completed a mission in that timeline or this one. But the memories of death and dying will never fade into anything less real.

no subject
It's comforting. Thinking that Clarisse has someone else who loves her too, who'll do nearly as much for her as Ellie would. Ellie knows what kind of friend Abby is, how much she cares about her people. It's one of the first things she admired about her.
And actually, she's a little relieved that Abby has someone like Clarisse.
It's a strange but not unwelcome feeling.
So Ellie follows the exchange like a game of ball, a small smile on her face. She knows they're pushing to keep things normal, but the more they do it, the easier it gets.
"Oh really? Who was it?"
no subject
That so wasn't a thing! And now it seems like it was. And it's gonna seem even more like it if she's cagey about it. She grimaces at Ellie. Enjoying this? "It wasn't a blind date, I got... Somebody dropped me a letter letting me know I was signed up for some matchmaking thing. Which I did not fucking sign up for.
"I thought it was her trying to make me look stupid, actually."
She is pointing at your girlfriend, Ellie.
no subject
She leans forward. When Abby didn't bring the weird matchmaking thing up again it'd slipped her mind pretty quick, but now that she's reminded herself of it, she's finding that she's actually interested in hearing how it all turned out. Obviously not with Abby seeing anyone, unless she's the greatest liar ever, buuuut still.
"You went, right? So how'd it go?"
no subject
It occurs to her that she doesn't even know if Abby's interested in that stuff.
"My money's on Benedict," Ellie says, wrinkling her nose. She's fond of him, but it seems like something he'd do for sure. It could've been Mobius, but if it were he'd have probably put Ellie in too.
"But yeah. How'd it go?"
no subject
Clearing her throat. "Don't get too excited. Strange showed up. He thought somebody had sent him the letter because they wanted to try kill him."
Super romantic.
no subject
"Dude," is all she says. "That guy's old."
no subject
"Not that old."
She might be choosing chaos on purpose.
no subject
no subject
Except all that means is that Ellie is probably going to ask for a name instead, so... not an actual break after all. But the intent was there and that's all that matters!
no subject
"Who did you want to show up?" she asks, and tries to make her eyes very wide and innocent. She doesn't want Abby to think she's laughing at her, even if she is. Just a tiny bit, but only because of the Strange thing.
She's desperately curious.
no subject
So, "Somebody more my age," is both true, and not-specific. And unlikely to be accepted. "Like Nina."
There you go.
no subject
"Okay," she says, "but on this hypothetical date, would you rather go sky diving or cave diving?"
Inquiring minds need to know. Also she's trying to cut Abby a break from having to talk about the people she likes in front of Ellie.
no subject
Abby contains multitudes apparently.
And that's a great question, so she'll hold the rest of what she was going to say for the answer.
no subject
"I'm not diving anywhere. Do we have to talk about this?"
She's starting to feel prickly and defensive. You can lead a horse to water but you can't make it talk about hypothetical dates.
no subject
By the way, nobody asked, but she would go skydiving.
"Fine. Talk about something else."
no subject
Nobody asked her either, but. "Okay, fine. Both of you. Would you rather always have wet socks or always have a rock in your shoe?"
Clarisse is obviously really trying, so Ellie will do her best. C'mon, Abby. Get with the program.
no subject
Let her think...
She mumbles, "Wet socks," and falls silent for a moment. Adds, "I knew a guy who broke his toe on a rock in his shoe."
Like is that fucked up or what. Also it was Manny but she won't be naming names.
no subject
She has to wear shoes into battle, but socks are optional, right?
"How do you break your toe on a rock in your shoe?" She turns to look at Abby again, a little skeptical. "Damn, was he putting them on at warp speed or something?"
Kinda funny to imagine, though.
no subject
Actually, didn't the Greeks just wear sandals most of the time anyway?
She winces outright at Abby's little nugget of information, wrinkling her nose. Yeah, broken toes are an absolute bitch, but geeze, guy.
no subject
And to answer the question, "He said it got stuck in there at some point and he didn't have time to get it out before some shit went down and we had to run as fast as we could just to get out of there. It got stuck under his foot and... Yeah."
You can imagine.
no subject
Also, I don't wear sandals," she adds, looking at Ellie. "I'd just wear my boots with no socks underneath." And they'd stink.
no subject
"And that's disgusting," Ellie says immediately to Clarisse, without a trance of irony or rancor. "Do you know how much fungus you'd get on your feet that way?"
no subject
"Shouldn't be a problem for you, right? Aren't you immune?"
no subject
"Yeah. Plus it beats trench foot from permanently wet socks, right." Either way, there are no winners in this scenario.
no subject
She's trying very hard not to laugh, though.
"And does it? If you have a rock in your shoe it'd eventually turn into a wound if you didn't take it out and that's a good way to lose a foot."
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)